I'll be honest... I'm not at all excited about you. It's not your fault. In 2013, I lost Poppy. In 2012, I lost Gabriel. And so it's not surprising that I've been conditioned to associate a new year with a new loss.
I'm sorry to say that I don't feel hopeful that you'll be a better year. I don't have much faith in the future. I don't believe you will be my year. I don't know how to wish for the best anymore, because clearly all the hoping and praying in the world hasn't been working.
Mostly, I'm worried that you will be yet another year plagued with loss and defined by grief. Though I know that inevitably there will be many moments of joy and love and growth and goodness scattered throughout you, I fear that ultimately you will be another year of disappointment and that loss will once again overshadow all the good times.
Your predecessor, 2013, let me down in so many ways. (Again, not your fault.) That entire year was a struggle that drained me of my last remaining drops of faith and hope. I honestly don't know if I have what it takes to make it through another year of failure, spirit-crushing disappointment, and babyloss.
I'm not expecting (or even asking) for anything extraordinarily amazing out of you. I don't need you to be the year I win the Powerball jackpot, or the year I meet Oprah, or the year I run a marathon.
I just need you to be the year that restores some of the hope I have lost. I want to be able to dream again, to imagine a future that isn't scary or empty or completely uncertain. I want to be able to enjoy our time together, not live in fear of what you may bring.
So, please don't be like last year and the year before that.
And, please don't be another year of sub-fertility/pregnancy loss/death/childlessness/bad news, etc...
Because more than anything, I really need for you to be the year that I don't lose any of my children.
Showing posts with label new year. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new year. Show all posts
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Good-Bye 2013
Once again we've reached the eve of a new year... another year is coming to a close and leaving us with nothing but memories.
I wish I could look back on this year and see nothing but joy and feel perfectly at peace with its end.
Instead, 2013 will always be a year that ended with despair and emptiness. I wish I didn't feel this way, but I can't help but feel saddened and disappointed. I wanted so badly for this year to be one of redemption.
I remember at the start of this year that there was so much I wanted to do. So many goals were set that weren't reached. So many dreams were dreamed that weren't realized. So many wishes were made that weren't granted.
I guess ultimately I feel both relieved and reluctant to leave 2013 behind. Part of me is ready to move on, to leave this year in the past and cross my fingers that things are better in 2014. But part of me is desperate for more 2013, a little more time to try to recover what was lost. I feel cheated out of time with Poppy and the chance to have a rainbow baby.
Now time is up for 2013. And I'll never have another year with Poppy. And I'll never have the opportunity to have a baby in 2013. And I'll never again be able to end this year with a gain instead of a loss.
Nevertheless, it's time to say good-bye to 2013. I may not be completely ready for it to end, but at least this is one ending that is immediately followed by a new beginning.
I wish I could look back on this year and see nothing but joy and feel perfectly at peace with its end.
Instead, 2013 will always be a year that ended with despair and emptiness. I wish I didn't feel this way, but I can't help but feel saddened and disappointed. I wanted so badly for this year to be one of redemption.
I remember at the start of this year that there was so much I wanted to do. So many goals were set that weren't reached. So many dreams were dreamed that weren't realized. So many wishes were made that weren't granted.
I guess ultimately I feel both relieved and reluctant to leave 2013 behind. Part of me is ready to move on, to leave this year in the past and cross my fingers that things are better in 2014. But part of me is desperate for more 2013, a little more time to try to recover what was lost. I feel cheated out of time with Poppy and the chance to have a rainbow baby.
Now time is up for 2013. And I'll never have another year with Poppy. And I'll never have the opportunity to have a baby in 2013. And I'll never again be able to end this year with a gain instead of a loss.
Nevertheless, it's time to say good-bye to 2013. I may not be completely ready for it to end, but at least this is one ending that is immediately followed by a new beginning.
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| ~Last sunset of 2013~ |
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Embracing 2013
No matter what happens this year, I resolve to do my best to fill the next 12 months with priceless memories, meaningful relationships, dreams, hope, love and beauty, and to work on the goals I have in mind.
I want 2013 to be everything 2012 could have been (should have been), and I pray that God grants me a year of healing instead of another year of loss. This year I will keep Gabriel's memory alive by speaking his name, sharing his story, and doing whatever I can to offer support to the babyloss community. But I will also honor his life by learning from it, by gaining courage from it, and by living my life to the fullest despite missing such a significant piece of my heart.
I feel like my life became unraveled and sort of fell apart after Gabriel died. I hope 2013 brings me the strength and tools to put it back together. I hope that my 2013 journey includes more grieving and healing, and less hurting and regretting. I hope that I can truly and fully give my burdens to the Lord and allow Him to help me find happiness and peace.
Yesterday, I made a list of my 2013 new year's resolutions. It's not so different than my list of 2012 resolutions. Some I accomplished last year, though not in the way I had planned (so they're back on the list); others I didn't even begin working on. Having a baby was something I wanted to do in 2012. I did have a baby, but I don't know if Gabriel counts. Not that he isn't my baby. He is and always will be my firstborn child, but I feel as though I've failed us both in fulfilling that resolution. I've always wanted 2 or 3 (living) children, and instead I have 1 angel and an overwhelming inability to even envision having a healthy baby.
I suppose this would be a good time to add "Being Positive" to my list of 2013 new year's resolutions.
That brings the total number of resolutions to 12.
12 resolutions, 12 months.
At least on paper it sounds good :)
I want 2013 to be everything 2012 could have been (should have been), and I pray that God grants me a year of healing instead of another year of loss. This year I will keep Gabriel's memory alive by speaking his name, sharing his story, and doing whatever I can to offer support to the babyloss community. But I will also honor his life by learning from it, by gaining courage from it, and by living my life to the fullest despite missing such a significant piece of my heart.
I feel like my life became unraveled and sort of fell apart after Gabriel died. I hope 2013 brings me the strength and tools to put it back together. I hope that my 2013 journey includes more grieving and healing, and less hurting and regretting. I hope that I can truly and fully give my burdens to the Lord and allow Him to help me find happiness and peace.
Yesterday, I made a list of my 2013 new year's resolutions. It's not so different than my list of 2012 resolutions. Some I accomplished last year, though not in the way I had planned (so they're back on the list); others I didn't even begin working on. Having a baby was something I wanted to do in 2012. I did have a baby, but I don't know if Gabriel counts. Not that he isn't my baby. He is and always will be my firstborn child, but I feel as though I've failed us both in fulfilling that resolution. I've always wanted 2 or 3 (living) children, and instead I have 1 angel and an overwhelming inability to even envision having a healthy baby.
I suppose this would be a good time to add "Being Positive" to my list of 2013 new year's resolutions.
That brings the total number of resolutions to 12.
12 resolutions, 12 months.
At least on paper it sounds good :)
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| The sky on January 1, 2013 -- seeing the bright blue sky reminded me to start the new year with hope! |
Monday, December 31, 2012
Leaving 2012
I am both eager and sorry to be leaving 2012.
It is with hope but also with a very heavy heart that I stand at the edge of 2012 and gaze outward towards a new year. I look forward to the unknown opportunities that lay ahead, but at the same time 2013 feels so daunting. Out there in the abyss of the future, I anticipate all that the new year expects of me and at my core, I feel so distressed. The pressure to make this new year a better one is overwhelming and I can't help but worry that more disappointments await me in 2013. I don't know if I have the strength to endure another year of loss and pain, and I'm not prepared to face any more hardship.
2012 has been the most devastating year of my life, but also the most extraordinary and easily the most life-changing. It's the year Gabriel was here with me, but also the year he was taken.
There is so much I wish I could go back and change about this past year, and I hope that there are cleansing waters in the new year that will wash away some of these feelings of regret and guilt.
In 2012, I became pregnant for the first time. I became a mother and my husband became a father. The first 6 1/2 months of 2012 were a sacred gift. I look back upon those days with more joy than words can adequately describe. The last 5 1/2 months were the most difficult and possibly the darkest of my life. We spent those days letting go of our son, remembering him in every way we could think of, and treasuring the memories we have of him. In so many ways, the last 5 1/2 months are just as meaningful as the first 6 1/2. Now that they're over, I'm sad to be walking away from all 12 months.
In 2013, I would love to become pregnant again. But of course I fear another loss and I worry that a healthy baby is not part of God's plan for us. I fear failure. I fear death. I fear that we will not be blessed and that the stork will fly past our home. I fear what will happen to my heart if that were to happen. And I want. I want another baby. I want to hold and nourish a brand new life. I want to feel those precious and beautiful kicks. But mostly, I hope. I hope that 2013 will be a year I can always look back on as the year we were blessed with a healthy baby. I hope that 2013 is a happy year. I hope.
I look back over the past year and I can't help but feel like my life stood still for an entire year. I don't see any progress, any accomplishments, any goals attained. I turned 30 in 2012 and I hate that I am nowhere near where I thought I would be at the age of 30. I thought I would have more (living) children by now. I thought I would be in the middle of a career, instead of at the end of one and the beginning of another. I thought 30 would be a good year, an easy year, a simple, normal, average year. Instead, I've learned that it's not enough to think, to expect, to want, to plan. Life is a giant curve ball. There is so little we have control over. And that is the lesson I have learned in 2012.
In 2013, I will be taking the first steps towards the above-mentioned new career. I am plenty motivated, but have so many deep-seated worries and part of me doesn't believe I can achieve what I've set out to do. I'm not sure why I have these doubts, but I pray that in time, they will be replaced with courage and some kind of understanding that I have made the right choice. I hope that this new career helps me to heal and that it forever serves to remind me of who I have become because Gabriel was once here. I trust that the Lord will help me realize this dream and that he has placed it on my heart with good reason.
In 2013, I see the potential for so many wonderful things and my heart is filled with faith. I am grateful that God has allowed us another year. I know it is a gift.
But still, how can I not be sad to leave my sweet little baby behind in 2012. This was his year and it pains me to see it end. I worry that as time ticks on, the world will forget him and that my memories will slowly fade. They're all I have left of him and I can't bear the thought of even them being stolen from me. I pray that I will never ever forget the details and moments that made 2012 so special.
I wish I could stay here a little longer. Reflect and soak in the past year for a few more days. Can't I just linger here in the transition from the year I had with Gabriel and the year that offers new hope and new life? Can't I stand with one foot firmly planted in 2012 and the other hesitantly hovering over the cusp of 2013? Can't time just stop and give those of us who lost our precious children in 2012 a little more time to remain behind?
Because I'm not sure that I'm quite ready to leave yet.
~Remembering Gabriel and all the babies who left this world in 2012. The past may hold the days they were here with us, but the future holds the eternity that we will spend with them in Heaven.~
It is with hope but also with a very heavy heart that I stand at the edge of 2012 and gaze outward towards a new year. I look forward to the unknown opportunities that lay ahead, but at the same time 2013 feels so daunting. Out there in the abyss of the future, I anticipate all that the new year expects of me and at my core, I feel so distressed. The pressure to make this new year a better one is overwhelming and I can't help but worry that more disappointments await me in 2013. I don't know if I have the strength to endure another year of loss and pain, and I'm not prepared to face any more hardship.
2012 has been the most devastating year of my life, but also the most extraordinary and easily the most life-changing. It's the year Gabriel was here with me, but also the year he was taken.
There is so much I wish I could go back and change about this past year, and I hope that there are cleansing waters in the new year that will wash away some of these feelings of regret and guilt.
In 2012, I became pregnant for the first time. I became a mother and my husband became a father. The first 6 1/2 months of 2012 were a sacred gift. I look back upon those days with more joy than words can adequately describe. The last 5 1/2 months were the most difficult and possibly the darkest of my life. We spent those days letting go of our son, remembering him in every way we could think of, and treasuring the memories we have of him. In so many ways, the last 5 1/2 months are just as meaningful as the first 6 1/2. Now that they're over, I'm sad to be walking away from all 12 months.
In 2013, I would love to become pregnant again. But of course I fear another loss and I worry that a healthy baby is not part of God's plan for us. I fear failure. I fear death. I fear that we will not be blessed and that the stork will fly past our home. I fear what will happen to my heart if that were to happen. And I want. I want another baby. I want to hold and nourish a brand new life. I want to feel those precious and beautiful kicks. But mostly, I hope. I hope that 2013 will be a year I can always look back on as the year we were blessed with a healthy baby. I hope that 2013 is a happy year. I hope.
I look back over the past year and I can't help but feel like my life stood still for an entire year. I don't see any progress, any accomplishments, any goals attained. I turned 30 in 2012 and I hate that I am nowhere near where I thought I would be at the age of 30. I thought I would have more (living) children by now. I thought I would be in the middle of a career, instead of at the end of one and the beginning of another. I thought 30 would be a good year, an easy year, a simple, normal, average year. Instead, I've learned that it's not enough to think, to expect, to want, to plan. Life is a giant curve ball. There is so little we have control over. And that is the lesson I have learned in 2012.
In 2013, I will be taking the first steps towards the above-mentioned new career. I am plenty motivated, but have so many deep-seated worries and part of me doesn't believe I can achieve what I've set out to do. I'm not sure why I have these doubts, but I pray that in time, they will be replaced with courage and some kind of understanding that I have made the right choice. I hope that this new career helps me to heal and that it forever serves to remind me of who I have become because Gabriel was once here. I trust that the Lord will help me realize this dream and that he has placed it on my heart with good reason.
In 2013, I see the potential for so many wonderful things and my heart is filled with faith. I am grateful that God has allowed us another year. I know it is a gift.
But still, how can I not be sad to leave my sweet little baby behind in 2012. This was his year and it pains me to see it end. I worry that as time ticks on, the world will forget him and that my memories will slowly fade. They're all I have left of him and I can't bear the thought of even them being stolen from me. I pray that I will never ever forget the details and moments that made 2012 so special.
I wish I could stay here a little longer. Reflect and soak in the past year for a few more days. Can't I just linger here in the transition from the year I had with Gabriel and the year that offers new hope and new life? Can't I stand with one foot firmly planted in 2012 and the other hesitantly hovering over the cusp of 2013? Can't time just stop and give those of us who lost our precious children in 2012 a little more time to remain behind?
Because I'm not sure that I'm quite ready to leave yet.
~Remembering Gabriel and all the babies who left this world in 2012. The past may hold the days they were here with us, but the future holds the eternity that we will spend with them in Heaven.~
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